I Didn't Mean To Eavesdrop, But …

I DIDN'T MEAN TO EAVESDROP, BUT …

“What can I get ya, hon?” said Jenny, smiling at Hilary.

For as long as Hilary had been coming to Jake’s Diner, Jenny had been her server. Even when Hilary was a little kid and her parents brought her here for the occasional Saturday morning breakfast treat, Jenny had been taking orders, and running food out to hungry diners. Hilary always sat in Jenny’s section every time she came in.

“Hey, Jenny. What’s the soup of the day? Tell me it’s something delicious.” Hilary said, smiling.

“Chicken vegetable,” said Jenny nodding her head. “It’s pretty good. I had a bowl for lunch.”

“Sold!” said Hilary. “And can I have a a tea, as well, please.”

“You got it,” said Jenny. She nodded to Hilary’s motorcycle helmet on the seat across from her. “You still ridin’ that death machine? I got a cousin who was hurt real bad ridin’ one of those things!”

This was not the first time that Jenny had brought up the dangers of riding a motorcycle to Hilary.

“Honest, Jenny, I’m very careful when I ride.”

“Uh huh,” answered Jenny, unconvinced. “That’s what Bert said right before he hit that tree.”

She turned on her heel, and headed back to the kitchen to put Hilary’s order in.

Laying her leather jacket on the seat beside her helmet, Hilary got up and headed to the washroom. It had been a long ride to and from her mom’s house, and she needed to freshen up. She caught site of herself in the mirror over the sink and grimaced. Her hair was a disaster — helmet head on top, wind-blown rat’s nest on the sides.  

Note to self, she thought, Always tuck your hair into your helmet.

She finger-combed her hair, washed her face, and took stock. Better. Still not great, but not so scary.

As she walked back to her table, Jenny was putting the soup on the table.  A nice bowl of soup after a two and a half hour ride was just what the doctor ordered.

She was just starting her bowl of soup, when a group of three women sat in the booth in front of Hilary. They were fairly young, maybe in their early twenties.  

Students, thought Hilary.

“I can’t believe that classes start tomorrow! I’m so not ready,” said the woman with the short blonde hair, whose back was to Hilary.

“Yeah, no kidding. My job only finished yesterday. I haven’t even had time to go to the bookstore,” said one of the women facing Hilary. She had long dark curly hair.

“Exactly! I just got back from my work placement a couple of days ago. I’m exhausted! And I have an eight o’clock class tomorrow morning! I don’t know what I was thinking!” said the other woman facing Hilary. She had short brown hair with blonde streaks in it.

The three women laughed, and chatted about why the university would schedule early morning classes—no one ever attended.

“Maybe the profs that teach those classes like them, because, you know, there’s no one there to ask questions,” said the blonde woman.

All three laughed again.

She was right! They were university students. They were the right age, and this was a university town, so a good, solid guess. She continued to eat her soup, listening to the chatter coming from the other table. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the diner was pretty empty and their voices filled the room. Hilary took out her phone, and started scrolling through the work emails that she’d been avoiding while she was with her mother. Hopefully, this would distract her. She knew it wouldn’t, but at least she wouldn’t look like she was eavesdropping.

After Jenny had taken the women’s orders, they talked about the house they were renting that was really close to campus. They were all excited about sharing the house. Hilary let their words flow over her, as she concentrated on composing a response to an email requesting a meeting in a couple of days.

“Hey,” said the streaky-haired woman, “Do you guys no anything about this prof?” She slid her phone across the table so that her friends could read the screen.  

Both of her seat mates shook their heads no.  

“Why?” asked the one with the blonde hair.

“I heard the prof’s a bit of a … I don’t know? A bit much. That she doesn’t take any crap,” said the woman. “I checked her out on Rate My Prof, and it sounds like she’s okay—she’s got pretty good ratings. But this guy I know, Declan, said that she’s got a lot of baggage.” Taking back her phone, she looked at her friends. “I really need to do well in this course. It’s a prerequisite for med school.”

“Baggage? What kind of baggage?” said the curly-haired woman. Hilary watched her make air quotes with her hands around the word baggage. “And how does Declan know?”

The streaky-haired woman leaned in, speaking in a quieter voice. Hilary found herself leaning in as well.

“Well—”

Jenny took that moment to arrive with their drinks.

“Okay, three waters.” She set a glass in front of each woman. “A strawberry shake,” which she placed in front of the blonde woman whose back was towards Hilary. “A chamomile tea,” that she placed in front of the streaked hair woman. “And a coffee,” she placed in front of the woman with the long curly hair. “I’ll be right back with your food.”

“I don’t know how you can drink that shake, Anna. It’s so rich, and creamy, and decadent, and delicious.” said the woman with the dark curly hair. “So tasty.” She sighed dramatically, batting her eyelids.

“Jemma, my God!” laughed Anna, “Would you like some?”

Jemma laughed, “Of course!” and grabbed the milkshake and took the straw from her water and took a drink. When she was finished, she pushed it back towards Anna. “Ahh. Thank you. That was delish. And there are no calories because it’s not mine!” she said smiling broadly.

Anna slid the milkshake towards the woman with the streaked hair.  “How ‘bout you, Kara? Mmmm. Strawberry frozen goodness. Want some?”

Kara laughed and shook her head no. “I’m good. But you know, thanks.”

Jenny appeared at their table, this time, carrying three plates.

“Here you go, ladies” she said. “A veggie burger and fries.” She put the dish in front of the woman with the curly hair, Jemma. “Another veggie burger and fries.” She placed the second order in front of the blonde-haired woman, Anna. “And a toasted club on brown, no fries.” She put the third plate in front of the woman with the streaked hair, Kara.  

“Can I get you anything else?” asked Jenny.

The three woman all shook their heads no. 

Jenny turned and walked away from the table. As she passed Hilary’s table she asked, “Everything good here?” 

“Yes, thanks Jenny. It’s perfect.”

The women ooh-ed and aah-ed over their food, and fell into silence as the dug into their meals. Hilary went back to her phone, a little sad that she wouldn’t be learning who the professor with the “baggage” was. Just as she finished her soup Jenny swooped by to collect the dirty dishes, and bring her her tea.

“Mint tea, right?”

Hilary nodded yes. “Thanks, Jenny, you’re amazing.”

“After doing this job for thirty-four years, I’m getting pretty good at it.” She smiled at Hilary. “Can I interest you in a piece of pie? I’ve got cherry, apple, pecan, pumpkin, banana cream, and Mississippi mud pie.” She paused, and looked at Hilary. “And, if my memory serves me correctly, you’re a pecan pie girl. With vanilla ice cream. Right?”

Hilary smiled back at Jenny. “You know me so well. Yes, please!”

“I’ll be right back.” She turned and walked back to the kitchen.

Hilary returned to her screen, scanning her emails. She should really try harder to keep up wth the flow, especially the ones from work.  Jenny dropped off a huge piece of pie à la mode. Hilary thanked her, and dug in.

“So,” said Jemma, “What’s going on with your prof? What’s her name?”

“Right!” said Kara, putting down her fork. “i was telling you about Dr. Trager. Well …” she leaned back in.  

Hilary dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. The two women facing her looked up, and Anna turned to look. Hilary looked at them, open mouthed.

They’re talking about me! What the hell!

“Can I help you?” It was the woman named Kara, who would be taking her class tomorrow.

Hilary blinked. “Oh, sorry. “ She looked down at her half eaten pie and melting ice cream.

“Anyway,” said Kara, dropping her eyes from Hilary. “ Declan said that she was on administrative leave last year. He said that she hit a kid.”

Hilary was furious! That was not what happened! She almost stood up and told them so. They were so wrong.

*****

He’d come in angry.  

“Dr. Trager, you need to fix my mark in this class.”

She’d looked at him. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I know which class you’re talking about.”

“You need to fix my grade!”

She took a big breath. It wasn’t unusual to have unhappy students at this time of the year—the term was almost over, classes were finished, and the final exams were just around the corner. If the student hadn’t done the course work, it was now dawning on them that they were probably not going to pass.

“I don’t know who you are. I can’t look at your grade if I don’t know who you are.”

He scowled at her. “Andrew Carter.”

“Okay, Andrew Carter, which course are we talking about?” She pulled up the course lists from this term on her computer, ready to look him up.  

“2GRG”

“Which section?”

“B.”

She typed rapidly, and pulled up his grade grid. It was not good.

“Andrew, you haven’t completed any of your course assignments or labs. Your current grade in this class is zero. You would have to get perfect on the exam to pass.” She shook her head, making eye contact with him.

He stood there, clenching his teeth. Hilary could see the muscles in his jaw bulging. “I know. You need to change it. Now. You to pass me.”

She sat back and looked at him. “Andrew, I can’t do that. You didn’t do any of the work.”

“If you don’t pass me, I’m going to get kicked out of school. Then my Dad will freak, and kick me out of the house. Then I’ll lose access to my trust fund.” He walked to the desk and put his hands on her desk, and leaned in. “I can’t lose access to my trust fund. If I do, it’s going to be your fault. And I'm going to be pissed.”

Hilary was used to upset students. But they weren’t usually this aggressive. She stood up. “Andrew, are you threatening me?”

“I’m just telling you I need you to pass me. I will be very angry if I fail, and you don’t want to see me angry.”

Her office was small, but she walked around her desk, and walked past Andrew Carter. She stood by the door.  

“You need to go now, Andrew.”

He grabbed her arm, at the same time dragging her back into her office.

Hilary yanked her arm out of Andrew Carter’s grasp, and stepped towards the door of her office making it into the hall before he grabbed her hair and dragged her back in.

“Hands off!” she screamed at him, wheeling and trying to pull out of his grasp. But his grip on her hair was too tight. Instead of pulling away, she charged him and kicked him in the crotch. Andrew Carter yowled, and fell to the floor. Unfortunately, her hair was wrapped around his fingers, and she fell with him.

“HELP!” HELP ME!” she screamed.

But no one came. She tried prying her hair from his grasp, but he was holding on tight.

“I’m going to kill you,” he said, gasping in pain.

Hilary kept trying to yank her hair out of his hand. It worked. Andrew Carter was left holding a clump of her hair, but she was free. She scrambled for the door on her hands and knees. Andrew Carter grabbed her right foot, holding tight, dragging her back into the office. He couldn’t stand yet, but he wasn’t going to let her get away and raise the alarm. Hilary did the only thing she could. She bent her left leg and kicked back, striking Andrew Carter square in the face. She didn’t see it, but Andrew Carter’s nose exploded, blood pouring down the front of his shirt.

“You are dead!” he screamed. “YOU ARE DEAD!” He started crawling after her. 

Still on her hands and knees, Hilary made it into the hall. She got up and ran shakily for the department office.  

*****

“Declan said that this student sued her because she punched him. She was on leave until this school year until they settled the suit,” said Kara.

“No way!” said Anna. “That’s unbelievable! I’m not sure I’d want to be in a class where the prof thinks it’s okay to physically attack a student. I’d change courses.”

Kara shook her head. “I can’t. I need this class. I have to take it—it’s a prerequisite. And Dr. Trager’s the only one who teaches it.”

Jemma spoke up. “I heard that you can get an exemption if there’s a real strong reason why you can’t take the course.” She paused. “Like you’re afraid of the prof.”

Hilary couldn’t take it any more. She'd heard enough. She stood up and walked over to the women’s table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I’m Hilary Trager. If you want to know what happened, I’m here. Ask me.”

The women looked at her, shocked.

“No, seriously, ask me.”  

None of the women said anything.  

“Okay,” she said, “then I’ll tell you what happened. I was physically assaulted by a student in my office. He didn’t like his grade. He was arrested. But, he assumed that it was going to be a he said/she said kind of deal, and the courts would believe him because he’s a rich kid, so he tried to sue me.” She pulled out her phone. “But, the case was thrown out. I have CCTV in my office that recorded the entire assault.” She hit a few buttons, and held the phone out to the women. “Do you want to see this student attack me, and threaten my life? It’s tough to watch.” 

None of the women made to take Hilary's phone. Jemma, wth the long curly hair, shook her head no. “We’re good,” she said.

Hilary was angry, but she needed to make her point. She looked at Kara. “Your friend Declan doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And by repeating misinformation, he’s hurting me. If you want to know the truth ask someone who knows the truth. In this case, that’s me.” She looked at the three women. “Any questions?” All three shook their heads. “Good,” she said. “And, Kara, I’ll see you in class tomorrow, eight a.m. sharp.”

Hilary grabbed her belongings from the booth, and headed to the front of the restaurant to pay her bill, and get ready for a new school year.